


Hazing

by bar2d2s



Category: The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:43:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3923365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bar2d2s/pseuds/bar2d2s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Reverse-Flash Task Force was a professional police unit. Usually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hazing

It was all good-natured hazing within the Reverse-Flash Task Force. Play a series of pranks on the new guy, get a read on just how much they could mess with him, then welcome him fully into the fold. So long as the Commander didn’t catch wind of it, everything was just fine and dandy.

So Heatstroke and Trixster spent all week long convincing their latest recruit, Mirror Monarch, that Weather Warlock was actually a metahuman, who generated a bad luck field. They’d gotten the idea from an ancient superhero cartoon. Jack was hooked, and soon began to blame every bad thing that happened to him on spending too much time around WW. Meanwhile, Heatstroke and Trixster laughed to themselves, wondering how long it would take before their little joke would earn him his first reprimand; the true sign that you were now a Renegade.

Not too long, it turned out.

A few days later, the Commander decided to send Jack out on patrol with Warlock, as he was the only Renegade the newbie hadn’t really gotten to know. Jack had panicked and protested, which caused the leader to demand an explanation for his actions.

“Weather Warlock is unlucky! He generates bad luck with his metahuman gene!”

Commander Cold held his temples and sighed, making a note to have a stern discussion with the other men in his troop about how tomfoolery that could possibly cause them to not work well as a unit  _was expressly forbidden_. Placing one hand on Jack’s shoulder, he told the younger man,

“Don’t worry. They were just hazing you. Warlock’s bad luck doesn’t really exist.”

A good sight happier than he’d been in days, Jack took to his Platform, rushing off to meet Warlock in their designated zone of the city.

It was the worst patrol he’d ever had.

Broken traffic lights needed regulating,  _no_  actual crime, and to top it off, a car swerved and hit a fire hydrant, soaking them both to the skin and shorting out their Platforms, so they had to walk all the way back to base. Jack grumbled to himself the entire way, steering clear of his teammate. Warlock kept trying to figure out what he’d done to alienate his new partner on their first day out, but Jack wasn’t talking. Finally, just before they squelched off to their lockers, he tried again.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” Jack whirled around, poking him viciously in the chest.

“Screw you!” He yelled. “You’re a jinx!”

About this time, Commander Cold emerged from his office with a thoroughly ear-bashed Trixster and Heatstroke. The latter two looked at each other for a moment, then fell over laughing.

“Forget this! I quit! You’re all a bunch of maniacs!” 

Of course, Jack didn’t actually quit and when the time came to haze their newest member, Top, he was at the front of the line for the opportunity.


End file.
